The Cat's Meow
by LilTinyBee
Summary: “A hungry Hermione is a mean Hermione” and just for fun, throw in a transfiguration assignment, an indecisive Draco, and a devoted feline into the mix. DMHG. OneShot.


Disclaimer: I own nothing here

Originally posted for the summer DMHG FicExchange... and was nominated for an award for the exchange as well :) Credit and thanks to CelticSass for her very kind help in beta-ing this fic!

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The Cat's Meow (1/1)

Okay, I'll admit it now. I will. I've never been very good with hunger. My blood sugar level drops and wham! I'm dizzy, cranky, and just not very good company to be around. A hungry Hermione is a mean Hermione. I know it, and I'm not terribly proud of it, but that's the way it is. I like routine. I like my meals on time. I really don't think it's too much to ask.

So, he tells me to have a banana, or the slightly miserable-looking kiwi that's sitting in a fruit bowl in our private Head dormitory kitchenette. He doesn't understand why I'm getting more upset by the minute. But honestly, why should I spoil my dinner just because he can't make up his mind?

I never thought that the reigning Prince of the Slytherins could be that indecisive. It's not as though he's making some sort of life-altering decision, one that is going to mark his future. A decision that is… oh, stand back! "going to change the wizarding world forever." And ever.

Did I mention that a hungry Hermione is a sarcastic Hermione?

"Come on, Malfoy. Get on with it," I tell him. Okay, I yell at him. "Choose something already,"

Mr. Draco Malfoy, deep in serious contemplation, scratches his chin and shakes his pretty, little head again. There must be a law somewhere out there that he's breaking for being that good-looking. Not that I care mind you, but it's wholly unnatural. Honestly.

"A purebred, of course. Not Persians. I'd look like a poof. Siamese? No. Scottish Fold? No, funny ears. Umm,"

"Oh, for the love of-- Malfoy!" I shriek. "Just choose something! You only have to transfigure for a moment. The point of this assignment is the silent spell, remember?"

He turns and glares at me with a look of utter disdain, "I happen to take great pride in performing spells to the best of my ability, Granger. Choosing the correct breed is of tremendous importance. I couldn't simply turn myself into a common tabby cat,"

"Of course not," I drawl sarcastically. "Heaven forbid you turn yourself into a mixed breed,"

The blond rises from the seat at our picture window that overlooks the Black Lake,

"Now, now Granger. You accepted my apologies back in September, and the war is over. I've given up all, well most, of my old beliefs and attitudes. To throw the past back in my face would be uncharitable. You know that I still have my family name to uphold no matter what has happened. The Malfoy name goes back for generations…" I cut him off.

I've heard this speech before and don't think I can… er, stomach it again today, as said stomach is rather annoyed at the world already.

"Okay, I give up. Don't start up another damn filibuster. You're not your father. I fully acknowledge that. And, I appreciate your efforts to change your ways, but, you're still a stuck-up, snot-nosed little prat. Now, please!" I lace my fingers and plead with him. "Please pick something. I'm starving,"

"Eat an orange, Granger." Malfoy throws over the fruit he's picked up from the bowl. I resist the temptation to chuck it back at him. "You've made me lose my train of thought. Where was I? Oh yes, cats. Not a Burmese. Ah, I have it,"

"Oh, thank Merlin. Go on then," I sigh with relief while flopping myself onto our plush, burgundy couch and wait for his majesty to begin his spell.

Our Ridiculously Advanced Transfiguration assignment (or as my distinguished partner likes to call it: R.A.T's Ass) is to observe our partner's transformation into a feline. As a part of our N.E.W.T's final, we each have to master the spell silently. It's not as easy as it sounds. All sorts of funny things can go wrong in doing a silent spell. How would you like your bowling ball of a head connected to the tiny body of kitten?

He's pacing back and forth in front of the stone fireplace evidently concentrating hard on executing the spell properly. He's suddenly stopped and has turned to me once again.

Now what?

"Don't you want to know what breed I've chosen?" he asks.

"What?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. He must be joking. He's trying to kill me. He hasn't changed his ways at all. He's trying to starve me to death.

"You know I must have chosen a very noble breed. Aren't you curious?" Malfoy asks again.

"Are you kidding me?" My stomach rumbles audibly. I'm sure he didn't miss that. "I'll know what you've chosen when you perform the spell, which you still haven't. Please get on with it?"

"How true. Silly me." Malfoy chuckles for a few moments. Somehow, it reminds me a little of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Well?" I rub my weary eyes.

"Egyptian Mau," he says self-approvingly. "A fascinating breed with an amazing history,"

I drop my head into my hands and sigh out loud, "Wonderful choice, excellent, really. Now, transform!"

"Well, Crookshanks seems interested even if you aren't." The Slytherin walks over to my half-Kneazle companion, who is perched on the long table behind the couch, to scratch him behind the ears. "Isn't that right, Crookers? You and I will have a nice chat in a moment,"

Traitor.

Crookshanks has always liked the smarmy git. Ever since the first day we moved into our Head's quarters my cat has been like a second shadow to that peroxide blond. I know he'll always love me, but those two… it's like they have some sort of secret delight. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's just Malfoy. He's been starved for affection all these years. Right now, I don't really care. I think my stomach is turning on me. Any second now, I'm going to start digesting myself.

"How long's a moment?" I seethe. "Is it longer than a minute? If it is, I'm going for dinner,"

"Really, Granger. Your lack of patience is truly appalling. You'll need a lot more of it to become a Potions Mistress, but, very well, then. I'll put you out of your misery," he says, as he walks into the middle of the room to proceed with the transfiguration.

It's music to my ears. Yes, please put me out of my misery and get me to dinner.

As much as it pains me to say, Malfoy is rather good in his studies. He has no problems with this spell. His body shrinks and morphs into a sleek, graceful feline. His silvery-white coat looks extremely soft, and his large, expressive eyes are well-defined by markings on the fur around them making him look decidedly... Egyptian. Distinctive, cheetah-like spots and random bands add to his striking appearance.

But, all that trouble to decide on something so trivial for such a quick spell. I'm not convinced it's worth it.

Malfoy seems caught up in the moment, enjoying the sensations of his transfigured body.

Crookshanks has jumped down from the table onto the floor to meet his partner in crime.

After a moment he begins leading Malfoy around the room in leaps and bounds, showing him things that must be delightful to a cat's curiosity. Their feline chatter is almost frenzied.

"Ahem," I call, remembering that I'm still horribly malnourished. "Will you be much longer?"

Stopping their discussion, Malfoy and his gingery companion slowly return to the velvety couch where I sit waiting for my turn. Crookshanks jumps up next to me seeming like he's waiting for something to happen. I suppose he knows it'll be my turn next.

"Hello handsome," I smile and stroke his coarse, long fur. He purrs loudly and taps his paw on my leg. It's something he does when he's expecting a treat or a tummy rub. "Sorry, I don't have anything for you, Crooks. And, you've already had your dinner. How about something later on?"

"I don't think he's after food, Granger." Malfoy's returned to his original form and is reclining on an oversized armchair nearby.

"Well, I certainly am. I'm famished. Let me transform so we can go to dinner and not have to worry about this assignment afterwards." I stand and draw my wand.

"Er... Granger, I think you should know something first,"

"What? I know how to do this spell," Oh, the nerve of that boy! "You don't think I can do it, Malfoy?"

He holds a hand up. "Far be it for me to tell a lady what she can and cannot do. You have the floor,"

I turn my nose up at him and wave my wand while envisioning the words of the spell clearly in my mind. It is a curious sensation as my body suddenly drops and sprouts fur. I haven't been overly picky about the breed I choose. It's a fluffy Maine Coon, similar to one that my Aunt Lucy used to keep.

I've transfigured just a handful of times, but the immediate change to my sensory perceptions never ceases to amaze me. Everything is just that little bit sharper and clearer. A cat's sense of smell is amazing. Right now, I must admit, someone in the room smells rather amazing. We don't need to get into names.

Crookshanks pads over to where I'm taking a moment to gather my thoughts for the transformation back into my regular form.

"Hello there," I meow. My, he's a lot larger when I'm down at his height.

He responds and it takes me a few seconds to register what he's saying.

He's…. he's asking if…..

What!

Suddenly, there are heavy paws on my back. I screech and make a mad dash for higher ground. There's a growl behind me, and I realize I need to get higher than just the couch.

Malfoy! He's just standing there like a beanpole. Thank Merlin for amazing cat reflexes! I leap towards him in an instant and luckily, he catches me. Thank Merlin for amazing seeker reflexes!

"Claws, Granger!" he squeaks. Oh, the claws are out alright. He deserves it. Boy, does he ever. "Ow, sharp! Watch it!"

I cast the spell to return to myself, and Malfoy nearly buckles from the sudden increase in weight and mass. He fumbles with me for a moment, but manages not to drop me on my arse. It's quite impressive.

"Good grief, you almost killed me!" he grumbles in heaving breaths. "Thanks for the warning, Granger,"

"I wish I could say the same to you!" I yell in his ear. "Crookshanks! Naughty!"

"Don't be too hard on him, Granger. It must be that hair of yours," he smirks as he shifts me in his arms to get a better grip. I let him because I'm not thrilled about being back on the ground. "It's all bushy and Kneazle-like. A real turn-on for old Crookers,"

"Ugh, Malfoy!" I grimace. "That's disgusting. Why didn't you tell me before I changed?"

"I tried to tell you. You wouldn't listen," Malfoy says innocently, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitching. He's trying as hard as he can not to laugh.

"Ha! You really tried, didn't you?" I poke him in the chest. "You just wanted to see me humiliated. I'm never going to be able to look at my cat the same way ever again,"

"I did say something," Malfoy smirked. "Don't say I didn't try,"

"You should've tried harder!" I hit him on the shoulder. My face is burning. I must be blushing something fierce. "He tried to... to,"

Oh, don't cry. Do not cry. It was… eww! But, don't you dare cry. Not in front of Malfoy.

"Okay, Granger," he says softly as he begins to walk towards the portrait. "Let's just go to dinner,"

"Bad kitty!" I look over Malfoy's shoulder and waggle an angry finger at a guilty-looking Crookshanks as we exit the room.

I choke back tears of humiliation with discomfort and wait for Malfoy to stop and let me down. For some reason he doesn't. The boy simply continues down the hall to the stairs that will lead to the Great Hall.

"Erm, hello?" I stare at him with an incredulous look on my face. After seven years, I have this look down to an art. I've given it to Ron and Harry countless times when they've asked for my work to copy ten minutes before a class.

"Hmm?" He turns and looks at me with his cold grey eyes, which really aren't very cold anymore. He smiles and it gives me a sudden need to take a deep breath.

"Don't you think you should put me down now?" I ask feeling the heat creeping up to my cheeks again. Fortunately, we're late for dinner so the halls are empty. "Someone might see us."

"If I'm not worried, why should you be?" Malfoy replies nonchalantly.

"You don't care if the whole school sees you carrying me to my seat?" I balk.

He's grinning at me. Toothily. I need to know why.

"What?" I demand.

He looks away for a moment, and I can tell it's because trying not to start laughing again.

"You're a right bastard. You know that?" I'm tempted to help wipe that smirk of his face with the back of my hand. "Despicable. This is not funny at all,"

"Do you want to know what old Crookers and I talked about while I was transfigured?" he asks changing the subject.

I flinch a little. I really don't want to think about my cat anymore this evening. In fact, it will probably be better if he makes himself scarce for a little while.

"I'm not sure I really want to know," I tell him sheepishly.

"Old Crookers is insanely protective of you. He listens when I complai…er talk about you. He understands. But, when I transfigured he was finally able to join in the conversation so to speak,"

"And?"

"Listen, in human form, you'd obviously have a different sort of relationship, but if you were a cat… then who knows?" he arches an eyebrow suggestively.

"Don't even go there, Malfoy,"

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to sleep with one eye open for a while," he sighs. "I'll be even more unpopular with that cat of yours now,"

"What do you mean?" I ask. "You two have always got on so well it's sickening,"

"My dear Gryffindor, he's been sticking to me like glue to keep his eye on me," Malfoy whispers in my ear as we enter the Great Hall.

Crooks isn't the only one with his eyes on Malfoy. The majority of the student body is no longer enjoying their roast beef and potatoes. But, I can't be bothered by the scene we're making. Not right now.

"What are you talking about?" I'm confused.

"All you need to know is… I won." He winks as he sets me down on my seat at the Gryffindor table next to a snickering Ginny.

I grab his sweater to prevent him from taking leave from my side, "Explain yourself."

"Crooks wanted me to back off. I told him to let you choose who you prefer, and, you did,"

"You tricked him," I frown. "You knew I'd try to get as far away as possible and the most logical place to go would be up,"

"Naturally," he grins again.

"Why?"

"Because, Granger," he leans in close to tuck a stray curl behind one of my ears and stays there to whisper, "All's fair in love and war."

I can hear astonished gasps erupt around us as Malfoy gently presses his lips to my neck. It's unexpected, and just completely and utterly wonderful. I'm thrilled and quite possibly floating in mid-air.

But, there's just one problem.

I'm still hungry.

-end-

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